


The 12 Hours Oliver and Felicity were Locked in the Foundry (and the Aftermath)

by CJ_fics



Series: Team Arrow Matchmakes Oliver and Felicity [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: But mostly humorous, F/M, Implied / Referenced Sex, PDA, Sexual Tension, Some angst, Team Arrow, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Oliver and Felicity spent those twelve hours trapped in the lair ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 12 Hours Oliver and Felicity were Locked in the Foundry (and the Aftermath)

Felicity realised that there was something wrong in the lair when Oliver shouted, “Felicity!” in that demanding voice that had her imagining what he must have been like as a bratty billionaire baby.  
  
Well, after she recovered from jumping in her seat and her heart rate slowed down.  
  
"What?" she asks, irritably and not bothering to look away from her monitors. She really, really, really hated when he behaved like such a demanding ass towards her, which had been for the past few weeks.  
  
She could hear him stomping towards her. He turns her chair around so she would face him.  
  
"Did you lock the doors?" he growls, bending closer to her with his arms clenched into fists at his side.  
  
"What?" she retorts, pushing her face closer towards his. _No way this brat would intimidate her with his six-foot-plus and heavily muscled body. It didn’t work on her the first time he ever tried to do it to her, and it hasn’t worked since. It will definitely not work this time, too!_  
  
"The. Doors. Are. Locked." He clarifies, bending closer.  
  
"What?" she frowns. She refuses to be distracted by his smell… all after-shavey, and leathery and yummy— _No, Felicity!_  
  
"Have you lost the use of your vocabulary, Felicity?" he frowns at her and before she could respond to his sarcasm, he adds, "The doors to the foundry are locked. I can’t get out. Did you have something to do with that?"  
  
"Why would I lock the doors, Oliver?" she asks, shoving him away from her with a hand on his chest. He lets her.  
  
"I don’t know, Felicity," he whines, "This is just like the last time you did this."  
  
"Are you planning on arrowing a widower father?"  
  
"No," he says mulishly, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
"Then why would you think I would deliberately lock you in the foundry?" she retorts moodily, turning away from him to look at her monitors to see what was wrong.  
  
"Huh," she says after a few minutes, "The system says the doors have been manually locked."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It means, I can’t do anything from my computers to unlock the doors," she explains as if talking to a child. _Which he totally was being._  
  
He ignores her irritating tone and asks, “So how can we open the door?”  
  
"By using brute strength. I guess, you should give it a try," she says, standing up to head towards the locked door.  
  
"I thought it was my turn to try," he mumbles as he follows after her.  
  
———————————————————  
  
"Nothing’s working, Felicity!"  
  
"Well, shouting at me won’t change things, Oliver!" she shouts back. She was really, really, really sick of his attitude. Not just now, but for the past few weeks. He’s been so grumpy and horrible!  
  
He was the one who dumped her! If there was someone in this equation that should behave like a bear with an injured paw, it should be her!  
  
"Sorry," he whispers after a few minutes, "I just have to get out of here."  
  
She tries not to take that personally and let his words hurt her. Or even entertain theories as to why he had to leave the foundry so much. Maybe he had another date with Laurel or something.  
  
"I don’t have a date with Laurel," he says in a quiet voice.  
  
Instead of allowing her embarrassment over the tragedy that is her brain-to-mouth filter, and responding to him, she walks towards her desk to her phone.  
  
"What are you doing?" Oliver asks, following after her.  
  
"Let’s see if Digg or Roy can open the door from outside," she says.  
  
After thirty minutes of no response from Digg and Roy, she turns to Oliver, “They’re not answering my calls or my texts.”  
  
Oliver’s phone beeps.  
  
"Maybe that’s them!" Felicity exclaims as Oliver fishes his phone out of his back pocket.  
  
 _ **"There’s food and water in the fridge. Talk. The doors are locked until you talk."**_ It’s from Diggle.  
  
A second message arrives.  
  
 _ **"Don’t be an asshole, Oliver Queen. — Nyssa Al Ghul, Heir to the Demon."**_  
  
"Fuck," Oliver mumbles to himself.  
  
"What? What’s it about? Are you late for your appointment? I’ll try calling the guys again. Is Sara in town? Maybe she can help. Or maybe Thea," Felicity says, pressing keys on her phone.  
  
"Don’t bother. Digg and Nyssa trapped us in here. We can be sure that the rest of the team won’t be able to help us," Oliver answers.  
  
"Why would they do that?" Felicity asks.  
  
Oliver shrugs, not wanting to explain what the message told him.  
  
But Felicity knew why. She wasn’t an idiot. She knows that her relationship with Oliver has been quite tense and awkward for the past several weeks. And they were doing so well before that.  
  
Once she woke up from the bomb blast and saw Oliver’s face, she knew that whatever it was that they were trying to pursue was over. So when he showed up at her townhouse the next morning, she was prepared. She was prepared to hear the same “ _Because of the life that I lead_ " mantra from him, and she had told herself repeatedly that begging for someone to want to be with her was not a good start to a relationship. So she heard him out, and told him that wouldn’t beg him to be with her, and they agreed to be friends and teammates _only_.  
  
Only Diggle was privy to what had happened, and they agreed that letting the rest of the team know would only affect the group dynamic. And she thought they were making it work. They behaved professionally towards each other at all times, speaking only of Arrow and QC business. No more hanging out away from the foundry and the QC building, no more of her staring at him while he worked out, no more of him touching her arm or her shoulders. Sometimes, it stopped her whenever she realised how much their relationship had changed. Even before, even when she was new in the team, they were never this distant and cold towards each other. But she didn’t think anyone noticed.  
  
Several weeks ago, Oliver started being grumpy again. When they drew the short sticks to grab take-out from Big Belly Burger, she took it as an opportunity to talk to him about what was bothering him. He responded with a terse ‘ _Nothing_ ' and when she insisted, he told her he was none of her business. Quite rudely, too. It occurred to her then that she must have done something to make him angry. So she tried to apologise, but he brushed her off.  
  
Then she heard from the QC rumour mill that Oliver had been spotted having dinner with Laurel at Table Salt. After she swallowed the twinge in her heart at the news, she realised then that perhaps Oliver was feeling defensive and didn’t know how to let her know that he and Laurel were back on again. So she promised herself to wait for him to be ready, and prepare herself for that time when Oliver lets her know about Laurel so she could react like a friend, and _only a friend_ , should.  
  
She had been too busy bracing herself for that inevitable conversation with Oliver that she didn’t even realise that the team had been feeling the awkwardness and tension between them. So much so that they plotted to trap her and Oliver so they could talk and air out whatever was wrong with them.  
  
Felicity sighs. _OK, to keep the team dynamic healthy, it’s time to bite the bullet._  
  
Before she could speak though, Oliver says, “I’m going to go work-out. Maybe you have some searches you need to finish?”  
  
 _Right, the internet_. Maybe she could avoid this for a bit and use her time trapped in the foundry on the internet.  
  
When she checks the computers though, she realises that the internet was not available. Before she could do something, her phone beeps:  
  
 _ **"We’ve blocked all communications and internet access in the lair. Talk to him. If he’s rude, let me know. I will deal with him. — Nyssa Al Ghul, Heir to the Demon."**_  
  
"Dammit," she mumbles to herself.  
  
"What?" Oliver calls out from the bottom of the salmon ladder.  
  
"We have no internet access," Felicity says, sighing.  
  
"Well, they took away the salmon ladder bar," Oliver says.  
  
Felicity chuckles humourlessly, “They must really want us to have that talk.”  
  
"Surely, we can wait them out. There are other things we can do in the meantime. They will eventually need to come here for Arrow work," Oliver suggests.  
  
Felicity turns to face him, scoffing to hide the hurt his words cause, “Wow. You really don’t want to talk to me.”  
  
"Felicity…" he says as she stands up from her chair to walk away from him. He reaches out to gently grab her elbow, "It’s not—"  
  
"I know why, you know," she interrupts him, turning a bit so she could face him half-way, dislodging his hand on her elbow, "I know why you don’t want to talk to me. But it’s OK, Oliver, I understand."  
  
"Understand, what?" he asks.  
  
She turns to face him fully, brave face on, “You don’t need to protect my feelings, Oliver. I know what’s going on.”  
  
"What?" he looks at her, confused.  
  
"I know why you’ve been so grumpy with me lately. You don’t want to let me know that you and Laurel are dating again. You’re thinking of a way to let me know without hurting my feelings. But you don’t have to. I’m not—"  
  
"What? Me and Laurel, what?" Oliver exclaims, reaching for her shoulders, "What are you talking about, Felicity?"  
  
"I know you and Laurel had dinner at Table Salt a few weeks ago, Oliver," she said, "And it’s OK. Really. I’m not—"  
  
"Well, only because you helped arrange it!" he interrupts in a loud voice, "You have no idea how much that hurt, knowing that you were pushing me to date Laurel again! You—"  
  
"What? What are you talking about, Oliver? I did not arrange for you and Laurel to have dinner," she responds, looking up to meet his eyes.  
  
"You set us up! With Thea and Sara’s help! Thea told me that they were setting you and me to have dinner at Table Salt that evening, and then for some reason, you make it so that Laurel would show up instead of you!" he insists, shaking her gently.  
  
"I did no such thing, Oliver!" she shouts, almost on the tip of her toes to face him more, "Sara told me that Laurel had cancelled on their dinner date because she was working, that why she invited me to Table Salt! I did not know what they were planning! When I ran into Laurel—"  
  
"You thought you’d make it so she would have dinner with her sister that night," Oliver finishes for her.  
  
"Yes! I did not know that you were going to be there!" Felicity insists.  
  
"So you didn’t set me up with Laurel?" Oliver asks quietly.  
  
"No,"  
  
"Good," he says and then bends down to kiss her.  
  
—————————————————————-  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," Felicity exclaims, pulling herself out of Oliver’s hold. She was straddling his lap on the foundry couch.  
  
Oliver allows it so he could gaze at her disheveled state.

The top and bottom parts of her dress, a pretty navy blue mini-dress made out of some slinky material, were both somewhere in her waist area. Her bra was half-way off her chest, and one of her high-heeled shoes lost somewhere near her desk, and the other, dangling on the tips of her right toe. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her ponytail the first thing he got his hands on the moment she started kissing him back. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her lipstick all but gone.  
  
Oliver could taste the cherry -flavoured lipstick when he licked his own lips.  
  
His shirt was lost somewhere near her shoe, and his pants were unbuttoned and half-way unzipped.  
  
"Right, condom," he whispers, "I hope Digg left some here for us."  
  
"No, not that," Felicity says, chuckling, "We haven’t finished talking, Oliver. Why have you been such a bastard to me lately?"  
  
Oliver sighs. He reckons he deserves this. _He had been a real ass towards Felicity as of late. He was heartbroken!_  
  
"I thought you were in on the plan to get me to date Laurel again, Felicity," he admits, "It hurt."  
  
"Why?" she asks, gently stroking his chest, right above his Bratva tattoo.  
  
"Because I thought it meant that you didn’t want me anymore," he says.  
  
"But you were the one who pushed me away, Oliver. You dumped me," Felicity answers back.  
  
"For your own protection, Felicity!" Oliver insists, "I didn’t want you to be in danger because you were with me."  
  
"I know!" Felicity shouts, "But whatever reasons you had, the fact is that you didn’t want to be with me. So why would it hurt you, if I didn’t want to be with you?"  
  
"Because I never stopped wanting you, Felicity!" he says, imploringly, "It didn’t mean I didn’t love you. Or that I didn’t want to be with you. I did. I do. Still. Always."  
  
Felicity looks at him with such love in her eyes, it makes him want to cry. He doesn’t deserve it. He has been such an idiot. Pushing her away. Hurting her. Then being mean to her when he thought she didn’t want him anymore.  
  
"I’m sorry, Felicity," he says looking away from her, "I’m sorry for the past few months. For the past few weeks. I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been so unfair to you. It’s just that I don’t you to be hurt because of me and my life. Please believe me. I only wanted what was best for you. Or I thought I did, until I was confronted with the idea that you didn’t want to be with me anymore. So I just … I’m sorry."  
  
"Oliver," she says, pushing his chin up so he can meet her eyes, "I do want to be with you. But I was never going to beg you to want to be with me. It wouldn’t be right. So you have a choice to make now. Either you’re with me, or you’ll just want to be with me from afar. On my end, if you decide that the risk is too great, that you want to protect me more than you want to be with me, then I will have move on. And when I do — and let me tell you, I will move on because I don’t pine for anyone, Oliver Queen — you can’t behave like you have these past few weeks. I—"  
  
"I want to be with you," he interrupts, "I do! I want the chance to love you. Let me love you, please? I know I don’t deserve it but I need one more chance. One more chance. I’ll never push you away again."  
  
"You promise?" she asks, settling back down on his lap.  
  
"I promise," he vows, bringing her closer to him.  
  
"I love you, too, by the way, you big bratty idiot," she smiles before she kisses him.  
  
  
————————————————————————  
  
They’re both aware when Roy tentatively checks on them in the lair the morning after. But they were in the middle of their fourth round and couldn’t be bothered to stop. So they don’t.  
  
After, when they’ve caught their breaths and their heart rates have returned to normal, and Felicity is resting her head on his chest, her leg across his hips, she says, “So, I think since us getting together was a team decision, we should PDA as much as we can.”  
  
Oliver laughs, and agrees. Then, using his quick reflexes, moves her under him, and starts round five.  
  
—————————————————————————  
  
 _One week later …_  
  
"Guys, I’ve called you all here again — Stop laughing, Diggle, Sara!" Roy exclaims.  
  
The team, sans Oliver and Felicity, was back in Thea’s apartment again for another Roy-initiated meeting.  
  
"Sorry, sorry," Sara says, "It’s just hilarious that you start these things so formally!"  
  
"Yeah, just state what you want and let’s be done with it," Diggle confirms.  
  
"They have to stop!" Roy cries, "I don’t think I can take those two anymore! Three times! Three times! I caught them about to have sex in the lair! Three times! And that’s not counting the first time I caught them actually having sex!"  
  
"Not to mention the five times I caught them making out in public places, like the park, and Table Salt, Big Belly Burger! And the two times I walk in on them having sex in Ollie’s kitchen," Thea adds, rubbing a hand down Roy’s back in comfort, "It’s like they never take a break from having sex! At the rate they’re going, I won’t be able to afford the therapy it would take for me to scrub the image of my brother having sex from my brain!" Thea ends with a shudder.  
  
"You guys, too, huh?" Sara says, "I mean, I’m really happy that those two are together, but if I catch them one more time with that glazed post-sex look on their faces, I will probably need to poke my own eyes out with my bo staff. Or impale them both with it."  
  
"And you’re not with them in the QC offices," Diggle mumbles, "I don’t think they realise that their offices have glass walls."  
  
"I do not want to be you, John Diggle," Sara says, squeezing Diggle’s shoulder in commiseration, "The things you must have seen …"  
  
"You have no idea," Diggle says, shuddering.  
  
"So what are we going to do about those two?" Roy asks, "It’s only been a week! A week! And I can no longer stand it!"  
  
"Well, Ollie’s not been with a woman for a months now. Maybe he’s just making up for lost time?" Thea says, hopefully.  
  
"I wouldn’t bet money on it," Diggle responds, "It’s Oliver with Felicity. He’s wanted her for a while now — and I don’t think he’s ever going to stop."  
  
"There is an ancient saying," Nyssa chimes in, "You reap what you sow. And you, my comrades, are reaping what we have sown."  
  
"Nah," Diggle responds, "Those two were always going to end up this way. We just pushed things along."  
  
Roy, Thea and Sara groan in unison. They were going to have to live with this _forever_.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, a prompt fic, originally posted here: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/96532637663/a-follow-up-to-the-team-setting-them-up-fic-like


End file.
